This weekend was all about screwed up sleep schedules and startling efficiency.

For starters, I crashed at about 10:30pm on Friday night, which is not like me at all. I usually turn into a small child on weekend evenings — crankily refusing to admit that I’m tired, desperately pushing to stay up as last as possible because I don’t have a bedtime dammit! — and it usually works, I’ll hit a second wind around 11 or so, and I can say up until 2 or 3am without feeling too out of it. But this Friday my body wasn’t having any of it, and when I was too sleepy to play videogames before 11, I decided to call it quits early.

Saturday dawned bright and sunny and after about 10 hours of sleep, I got up to check on work stuff, and kick off my download of the Battlestar Galactica finale. (2 Second Review: I’m glad it’s over). TV watched (and mind totally frakked) I procrastinated about actually going into work by extracting Beauty (my SV650) from her winter home at the back of the garage and taking some time to remember how to start her.

I went on a super quick ride around the block, just to get the feel of things, but I knew that I’d feel guilty doing too much riding when I still needed to go to work/get a workout in. So the bike got parked, and I drove into work (wherein heroics were performed), drove to the gym (wherein I was confused by the layout of the Roseville LA Fitness), and then rewarded myself with a roast beef sammich from Maverick’s (which I was maybe a little too shaky to actually enjoy). Note to self: maybe lifting weights on an empty stomach is not the best of ideas.

After the necessities were taken care of — BSG, work, fitness, food — I headed to Northern Brewer in search of ingredients for a new batch of beer (since I bottled my last batch in December, and I’m running dangerously low). I went with the Scottish – 80 kit, since I’m currently on the hunt for a base recipe for the Chez TPH “house beer”. Ideally, a session beer with a little bit of flavour interest, and just enough kick to remind you that you’re drinking with a pro. The last batch I did was a recipe adapted from Palmer’s How to Brew (Lord Crouchback’s Special Bitter) which was definitely a contender for the title, but I’d like to try something different. Which ever recipe I do end up perfecting for the house beer will probably end up being what I start kegging, whereas the “specialty” beer experiments (like the Sleepytime Porter) will stay in bottles (the better for cellaring and giving as gifts).

After NB, I still had daylight on my side so I decided that instead of brewing right away, I’d take the bike out for a real ride. I’m still afraid of the freeway (Morpheus always told me to stay off the freeway. Said it was suicide), but there is a road near me with a 55mph speed limit and some serious corners, that just happens to lead to Nerd 2’s parent’s place so I decided I should visit. I made it there and back in one piece (and without any of the palm sized kittens in residence there ending up in one of my saddlebags…it was tempting). And celebrated by falling asleep. At 8:30.

12 hours later, lunch and Watchmen watching were the primary orders of business for Sunday. After which there was laundry and Netflix and knitting, and I managed to say awake until 11. So I might be back to normal again. At the very least, I’m back to work.

By not shipping the James Bond Ultimate DVD Collection that I ordered on September 14th, you forced me to wait until Amazon had the same set on sale for $90, which is just over half of what I was going to pay you (even after the 40% off coupon). Plus, since I ordered from Amazon, I got to use some gift certificates that I had, so I’m really getting 42 discs of hot british spy action for free.

Saturday night – Aliens drinking game (drink for each death – terrible idea). Lit bottle rockets in the wind (worse idea). Drank absinthe (probably the worst idea of all, if I wasn’t sharing a 16oz bottle with another lush). Segued from Sigourney Weaver to Ron Perlman by watching Hellboy after Aliens Resurrection.

Saturday – braved the snow (wtf was up with that) and went to Craftstravaganza where they didn’t believe in heat (or keeping the doors closed). Kept self warm with impulse purchases of Adam Turman coasters from Giraffe and yarn holder from Popsie Daisy. Restrained self (with some difficulty) from purchase of octopus boxers from Cricket Syndicate (link somewhat problematic for work). Lunched at Snuffy’s Malt Shop where I nearly died of ice cream.

Friday – Drove to Apple frakking Valley to find out that I still don’t have syphillus (don’t ask).

Thursday – Discovered Saints North and realized that my new quads really do suck (i.e. it’s not just me). Managed to fall only once, but in a manner so spectacular that I still feel it today. And that, my friends, brings us full circle back today.

Tonight, I’m hitting Saints North again – so if anyone feels like rollerskating, let me know. Tomorrow – Saturday I’m hosting at least 2 of the attendees/exhibitors at the fancy coffee conference deal that is going down this weekend so I’ll probably be attending that at some point too. I hope to be able to do some gardening this weekend – but the forecast is not looking all that great.

There is a special sort of pain that only afflicts a certain variety of geek.

If you’re ever feeling particularly cruel, find yourself a gamer who has at least a passing interest in action/horror movies, or an action/horror movie buff who plays video games at least now and then. For extra points – find the guy (or girl) in line at the midnight showing of the biggest summer sci-fi blockbuster who is playing on his Nintendo DS and and possibly wearing a shirt from last year’s comic-con. Then say, “Did you hear that Uwe Boll is adapting…” and note the looks of fear, pain, horror, nausea and anger that alternate across your mark’s face before you even finish the sentence.

Uwe Boll is famous for taking the genre of videogame movies that suck more than anyone thought that videogame movies could suck before (which is really saying something given that this is a genre that includes both Dungeons & Dragons and Super Mario Brothers: The Movie). His body of work includes such gems as: Bloodrayne, House of the Dead and Alone in the Dark (the only movie I have ever seen earn a 1% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes).

And now, he’s my fucking hero. No seriously, stick with me people. You see, there was this petition started to get Dr. Boll to stop making movies. He promised that if it reached a million signatures, he would stop. Now that it’s getting up there (218,947 sigs at the moment), he is feeling a little emo because nobody understands his genius and has decided to fight back via the youtubes.

His rant is the most beautifully delusional ego-maniacal tirade I’ve ever witnessed. He calls Michael Bay a “fucking retard”, decries Eli Roth’s “shitty movies” and declares himself “the only genius in the whole fucking business”. All in the most amazing german accent I have heard in ages. It almost makes me willing to watch Postal, just so that I can continue to experience his madness… maybe he is a genius after all?

So, it’s possible that a couple of weeks ago, I had a hankering to own all of the original Alien movies in one handy box set so I maybe ordered a box of awesome on Amazon. It’s also possible that Amber and I were cockblocked in our search for advanced derby tickets on Thursday, and we didn’t feel like dealing with the stress of trying to get them at the door, so there was no derby on Saturday. Given both of these items, and the fact that I had beer in the house, and the fact that I was able to rope Houtkooper into bringing me pizza, it’s easy to understand how I maybe spent upwards of 6 hours on Saturday night watching Sigourney Weaver kick ass, take names, and run around in her underwear.

Of course, this leaves me more annoyed than usual on a Monday, because not only do I not get to go to work IN SPACE, nor do I get to have an exoskeleton, but I also have to ponder why-oh-why, in the special edition of Alien 3, the initial alien gestates inside of a cow, instead of inside of the dog, like I remembered it. Why would they do that? Especially since there is a scene that they left in where one of the inmates calls out for the dog in the pipe tunnel things, which now doesn’t make sense because we never actually see the dog on screen. Honestly.

Until I remember that Sweeney Todd is a musical, and they’re keeping the songs. And suddenly I realize the combined potential for both suck and awesome. And I so very much want it to be awesome. The trailer leaves me a little ambivalent as to my expectations, I guess we’ll just have to see.

In good news, I think it’s fair to say that Sweeney Todd will not be the worst movie musical of 2008. Repo! Looks so awesomely bad, that I’d almost line up to see it on opening day, if it didn’t mean supporting a certain hotel heiress. And what the heck is Sarah Brightman doing in it anyway?

I may have found a venue in the Twin Cities with an even deader crowd than the Turf Club. Watching the Alarmists in the Ruins Courtyard as part of Mill City Live last night was both an exhilarating (my crush on Eric Lovold continues to deepen) and frustrating (My God, it’s full of hipsters!) experience. Come on people. This is a rock band you’re listening to, and a pretty good one at that. Stand up and dance a little. *grumble*

Before the show, I checked out the Stitch in Time sale at Grumpy’s down the street. Again, Twin Cities, I know that we can do better. While what I did see on display was creative and high quality, the selection was limited and the venue less than ideal (I appreciate Grumpy’s generosity in the donation of the space, but next time, can we get a room with a reasonable level of overhead lighting? Trying to choose earrings in the dark is a little frustrating).

In happier news, an extended cut of Transformers will be playing at IMAX theaters around the country (and in Apple Valley) starting on September 21st. My first viewing of Transformers involved booze and BBQ at the drive-in, which was in some ways ideal, but our distance from the screen and lack of surround sound meant that I wasn’t completely immersed in the actionpr0n. In a couple of weeks, I intend to experience the mechagasm that Mr. Bay worked so hard to give us.

The army is taking Nerd 2 for the weekend which works out pretty well since there’s a good chance that I’m going to be quarantined for the next few days (I’m confirming with the doctors this afternoon). I keep picturing myself as the mad woman in the attic, locked away for the good of society…did I mention that Amber and I have tickets to see Jane Eyre?